ESPN Commentary

OAKMONT, Pa. -- It did not end with a fist pump. Or a roar. Or a single adrenaline surge from the man in the Sunday power colors.

It ended with a difficult chip that ran 25 feet long and a desperation, triple-breaker putt that skimmed about three inches wide. It ended with a group groan on 18, not a communal eruption.

And it ended with Tiger Woods bending over, wincing, grabbing the bill of his black cap, then dejectedly tapping in for second place. Tiger hates second like nobody else in golf, but this is the season of silver medals for him.

And so the red shirt reign of terror is over. The Sunday stroll has become a struggle. In 2007, at least, The Closer cannot finish a major.

He's had his chances.

Twice, now, Woods has been in the final pairing on the final day. Twice he has had the lead, if only for a glimmer. Twice he has wound up the Come-From-Ahead Kid, watching a relative off-brand golfer pass him by.

Previous unknown Zach Johnson zipped ahead at the Masters. Angel Cabrera, a portly smoker from Argentina whose nickname is "El Pato" -- The Duck -- waddled past him here at the U.S. Open. (Since when does a Duck beat a Tiger at anything, other than swimming? And there's no water on this course.)

Neither golfer had won a major before -- Cabrera had never won on American soil -- yet both outplayed the guy who used to own crunch time. Suddenly, Rory Sabbatini's seemingly rash comments last month now resonate.

"I think he's more beatable than ever," Sabbatini said.

Not easily beatable. But not unbeatable.

I'm not here to say this is the end of an era by any stretch. A total of three strokes separate Woods from a second Tiger Slam, with his having won the 2006 British Open and PGA Championship in routs, then finishing two shots behind Johnson and one behind Cabrera.

"Not terrible," Woods said of his recent record in majors, "but could have been a little better."

Twice this year he put himself in prime position to further his career climb up Mount Nicklaus, and twice he's played ordinarily enough to be beaten. Twice Mr. Big Shot has failed to summon the key play at the key moment. Twice he has appeared more apprehensive than confident in a Sunday pressure cooker.

And this is a guy whose intimidation factor used to be worth two strokes a round in majors -- and three on Sundays.

Woods shot 72 at Augusta National while Johnson shot 69. Same scenario here at Oakmont: Woods shoots 72, Cabrera shoots 69.

A 72 does not equate to folding by any means. But Woods' fourth-round scoring average in the 12 majors he has won is 69.2.

In the final 16 holes of his Sunday round at Augusta and the final 14 holes of his Sunday round here, Tiger has played exactly one hole below par. Other than an eagle on 13 at Augusta, he has failed to make a thing happen.

After this runner-up, Woods didn't bristle at the can't-win-from-behind label.

"I haven't gotten it done," he said flatly. "Put myself there and haven't gotten it done."

He'll have plenty to rehash in figuring out how he didn't get it done in this Open.

Start with Saturday, which really should have been the round that won Woods the tournament. You hit 17 of 18 greens, you expect to shoot lights out. Instead he shot a very good -- not great -- 69. Putts refused to fall, and Tiger never fully put the screws to the field.

Still, that round was good enough to put Woods in the garden spot: the final group on Sunday, paired with a young buck who wasn't prepared for the challenge. Playing with Woods on Sunday of a major is like running with the bulls in cement shoes -- unless your name is Bob May, you're going to get trampled.

To say Aaron Baddeley ended badly would be putting it kindly. The 54-hole leader's triple-bogey 7 on the first hole was the warning siren for a wheels-are-off 80 -- and it also put Woods in the lead.

"Just because Badds made 7 on the first hole, we still have 17 more to go," Woods said. "It's not like they're handing out the trophy on the first green."

No, but there was a time when Tiger went out and snatched it when given such an opening. But the blowout wasn't happening this time, as once again someone came sailing in from the relative obscurity of another group to win.

Woods gave back his brief Sunday lead two holes later, with his only double-bogey of the tournament. Cabrera, it should be noted, went all 72 without a double.

After Woods' approach rolled off the back of the treacherous green on No. 3, he flat skulled the chip back up the hill -- bladed it just like you or I would -- and watched it run through the green. Then he chunked the next chip, two-putted and walked away as the hunter and not the hunted.

At greenside, I was channeling Jack Buck: I don't believe what I just saw.

Woods got back a stroke on the next hole, but the rest of the day was a struggle for control, for command and for positive momentum. The guy who was totally dialed in with his irons on Saturday scatter-shot his way around the front nine Sunday. He hit some ugly wedges on the back nine and still couldn't hole a putt.

The one putt that will be toughest to watch replayed is the birdie putt on 13. Three strokes down and needing some magic, Woods delivered it with a dart on the 183-yard hole to within four feet. Watching him slide the putt cleanly past the cup was stunning.

"The one easy putt I had on the back nine was there on 13," Woods said. "It was an easy little putt downhill, right to left. I had to play about a cup outside the right, and I hit it a touch too hard and missed it on the high side."

Seconds later, the scoreboard behind Woods reflected a Cabrera bogey. A two-stroke swing at that point ultimately would have been playoff-producing.

Cabrera backed up one more stroke, bringing Woods within one, but the big shot continued to elude Tiger. There was no heroic putt, no brilliant chip, no dramatic move.

We've become conditioned to expect such clutch brilliance from Tiger, to the point that his succession of pars on brutally difficult holes seemed a disappointment. That's the burden of greatness he plays under.

And for the remainder of this year, the burden of trying to beat an indomitable opponent has been lessened for his mortal competitors. They've seen it twice: It can be done, it can be done in a major, it can be done with Woods in the mix on Sunday, and it can be done by a guy who isn't a household name.

The red shirt still looks good on Tiger Woods. But the red numbers are no longer part of the Sunday ensemble.

Pat Forde is a national columnist for ESPN.com. He can be reached at ESPN4D@aol.com.